


Gravity

by switchingplaces



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchingplaces/pseuds/switchingplaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dude, you look like crap," he said, "When was the last time you slept?"<br/>Derek's nights are haunted by nightmares. Stiles notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity

**  
**

The flames were burning hot, scorching the remains of the Hale house. Once again his home was being destroyed, as Derek could do nothing but watch in despair.

From far away, he could hear Kate's laugh, maniacal, too loud. He wanted nothing more than to rip her throat out, but he couldn't move. His muscles seemed to be frozen sold, his body heavy. The heat was almost unbearable.

He watched in horror as a dark figure emerged from the smoke, eyes blazing pale blue. As the figure moved closer, he recognized Erica.

Derek wanted to shout, "Erica, no!" but his voice was stuck in his throat. "Please, Erica," he wanted to say, "please."

Erica stared at him intently, her skin blistering black, tears of blood running down her face.

"You did this to me," she screamed, "This is all your fault!"

Faces appeared behind her in the fire. His parents, Laura, Peter, his family, Paige, Boyd… Their eyes were full of accusations, dozens of voices whispering, "You let us die, _you_ let us die. You are to blame."

Kate laughed.

 

Derek awoke gasping, his body shooting upright in bed, his sheets drenched in sweat.

One look at the alarm clock next to his bed told him it was not even 2am. He slumped back into his pillow, sighing. There was no way he would be able to sleep again, his body pumped with adrenaline and fear.

When was the last time he had gotten more than four hours of sleep? He could hardly recall, but he was sure it had been weeks. Since Erica andBoyd died, the guilt he kept hidden inside his chest was back with full force.

It had been the same all those years ago, after the fire, when they'd just moved to New York. Sleepless nights for days on end, nightmares when he was half-awake. Laura's presence had made it better, the comfort on a warm body close to his, knowing that he was not alone. It was different with Cora, somehow. There was not enough trust, still.

He got out of bed, washed his face. The face that stared back from the mirror was hardly his own, the lines of exhaustion and loneliness and anger, written as a book across his features.

Cora's heart beat came from the next room, calm and steady.

 

His nights had settled into some sort of routine: waking from the nightmares of fire in the dead of night, getting up, wandering through Beacon Hill. The fresh air made everything slightly better, his head somewhat clearer.

He always used the opportunity to check on his pack, scouting the streets of Beacon Hill. Trying to keep them safe helped ease the guilt a little. They were just a bunch of teenagers barely capable of defending themselves from the supernatural threats that were everywhere, all the time. They were his responsibility. He'd lost too many people already, and he couldn’t bear to lose anymore. So he had to look out for them, protect them, defend them.

So he walked through town, from Scott's place where he and Isaac were sleeping peacefully, to Stiles, who couldn't lie still in bed as he couldn't be still when he was awake, to Lydia, to even the Argents, the hunters who were now his allies. Knowing that they were all alive and breathing, made him feel calmer.

His head was heavy with the lack of sleep.

 

 *** 

 

Stiles was, unsurprisingly really, the first to notice that something was wrong.

"Dude, you look like crap," he said, "When was the last time you slept?"

Derek just glared at him.

 

Stiles was something different. Derek had known that since the first time he saw him, all those months ago, in the woods with Scott. He'd suffered loss, carried a burden that no child should, and it had made him grow up too fast. He felt responsible that things that weren't really his responsibility. He was physically the weakest of the pack, yet he was the first to throw himself into danger if someone he cared about was in need of help. He was incredibly intelligent, but at some times also incredibly stupid. He used sarcasm to defend himself, to cover up his true feelings, but sometimes the mask would slip and Derek could see how scared the boy really was. He saw himself as weak, but he was probably stronger than any of them. Derek admired him, for all his flaws and weaknesses. He'd noticed how the younger boy – man, really – had stopped being scared of him and he felt like that should infuriate him, but it didn't.

The alpha would never admit it, but he needed Stiles. He was the human that held the pack together, will all his stupid rambling and sarcastic remarks. Somewhere along the way, Stiles had become the one person Derek knew he could depend upon. Scott and Isaac changed their minds too easily, were too unpredictable. Not that Stiles was predictable, not at all, but Derek knew that the boy would come when he needed it.

 

Derek secretly enjoyed the surprised yells he would get when he slipped into Stiles' room, through the window, the slight rise in heartbeat.

"Dude, I told you to stop sneaking up on me," Stiles would say, or, "Jesus… I could have been naked you know." But there was no heat in these comments, and Stiles would smile at the older man and his eyes would light up. At these times, Derek wanted to know what was going on in his mind.

 

Stiles took care of the pack like no one else did.

He'd come to Derek's loft when there were pack meetings, usually bringing casserole, or pasta, or sandwiches, and he'd sit back relaxed and watch the wolves devour the food within minutes, chuckling.

The others would sometimes make joking comments about Stiles being like the _pack mom_ and Derek would feel something in his chest constrict. Stiles reminded him of the humans in his family, back in the days. His father had been one of them.

There was a tiny voice in the back of his mind that he purposefully ignored, that said _If you are like the pack dad, and Stiles the pack mom… then what does that make you two?_

 

 ***

 

"Sour wolf, you are slipping," Stiles said. Derek's eyes shot up, startled.

It was 3 am, and Derek was doing his nightly rounds. He was really, really tired. He looked up and saw Stiles standing by his opened window, looking down at him.

"What do you mean?"He said gruffly.

"Your attention, it's slipping. You didn't notice me until I started talking."

"What? No, I noticed you," Derek lied. It infuriated him that the boy was right. He had been so tired that he hadn't noticed that Stiles' heart beat had been too fast for him to be asleep. He climbed up the wall and paused by the window. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"Aren't you?" Stiles countered. Derek ignored the concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, _Stiles_ ," Derek muttered, "I can take care of myself, you know."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Right, yeah, of course. You are a responsible adult." He paused. Derek glared at him. "But I mean it, Derek," he went on, his voice soft, "I understand it's hard to face your nightmares, but you're going to have to." There was no hesitation in his voice, no blip in his heart beat. Derek didn't understand how the boy could read him like this.

"I don't have nightmares," Derek immediately muttered, not even thinking about the lie. He didn't have the luxury of anyone knowing about this weakness of his, not as long as he was the alpha. "What do you care?" He couldn't help the growl at the end of the sentence.

Stiles eyes shot open, his mouth constricting. The hurt look upon his face was just another thing for the list of things Derek ignored about Stiles.

"I care," he whispered softly. Derek's heart constricted.

"Go to sleep, Stiles," he sighed, "You have school in the morning."

Stiles looked at him sadly for a little longer than really necessary, but he didn't say anything. In the end he just nodded and closed the window to go back to bed.

Derek wondered when Stiles had started caring so much about him. He absolutely didn't think about when he had started to care so much about Stiles.

 

 ***

 

It was 11 am, time to go to bed, to once again face the people he failed. This was possibly the worst part of Derek's day, when he knew he had to close his eyes and see their faces, see Kate's face. He thought about Stiles, the way he'd looked at him the night before, like he could see beyond the dark glares and careless mask. He knew that Stiles didn't believe his lies and he just couldn't understand why he cared to much.

He was so caught up in his thought, he didn't notice the sounds of someone coming into the building until the elevator doors opened. He knew it was Stiles from the sound of his footsteps and heartbeat, even before he saw him.

"What are you doing here?" He said, a little too harshly.

"I'm here to help you," Stiles answered.

Derek stared at him as he brushed past him, making his way over to the bed, and felt his heart beat skip a beat when the younger man started undressing.

"What are you doing?" Derek said, bewildered. He tried to keep himself from staring at the younger boy's abs as he pulled his shirt over his head – when had the kid become so muscular? Or had the muscles always been hidden under layers of clothing?

"I'm going to bed," Stiles said, as though it was the most logical thing in the world.

"Uhm… here?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Uh yeah, obviously."  
"Why?" Derek sounded genuinely confused.

Stiles shrugged. "When my mother died I used to have nightmares," he said silently. "It used to help if I slept in my father's bed. Another body next to you is comforting. I figured that it might help for you, too. Now, get your grumpy ass over here." His heart beat was slow and steady. He wasn't afraid to be here, genuinely wanted to be there for Derek.

Derek drifted towards the bed, unable to keep his eyes from Stiles' face. The boy had gotten under his skin, somehow. Derek wanted nothing more than too pull him close and never let him go, but he knew he couldn't. If there was anything he'd learnt by now, it was that people who got to close to him inevitably got hurt.

"Go away, Stiles," he muttered, "You shouldn't be here." It felt wrong to say it, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

"The hell I will," Stiles said. He stared at him intently, a hint of anger in the corner of his eyes. "You need to get over this whole _I'm the big bad alpha, I can take care of myself_ -act, because I'm not buying it for one second." His voice was getting gradually louder. "You think you are protecting the pack like this? You're wrong, you know. You are practically falling asleep where you are standing. If another wolf came through that door right now, you wouldn't stand a chance. You need to stop thinking about everyone else for once, and think about yourself. _Please let me help you._ "

Derek gulped, his voice stuck in his throat like in his nightmares. He felt conflicted, the will to push Stiles away fading away.

"Please," Stiles said again, barely more than a whisper. His eyes were big, wet.

"Okay," Derek finally said, "okay."

Stiles smiled softly, and sat down on the side of the bed. He watched as Derek undressed himself, his eyes filled with something Derek didn't dare recognize.

 

They laid themselves down under the blankets, Derek on his back, his muscles tight.

"Turn around," Stiles said softly.

Derek hesitated for a second, but then did as Stiles told him. The boy moved shuffled closer to him, and slipped his arm over Derek's middle. He pressed his cheek against Derek's shoulder.

Derek figured it should be awkward, only it wasn't. He could feel his muscles relax under Stiles' touch. It felt safe, he realized, Stiles made him feel safe. He could trust the boy with his life, he knew that after everything they'd been through. It had been a very long time since he'd last felt that way.

"Goodnight, Derek," Stiles whispered in his ear.

Derek closed his eyes and knew instinctively that this night would be better.

 

"How long do you want me to stay?" Stiles asks as Derek feels himself drifting away.

"Stay the night," he wants to answer, but his sleep-deprived body betrays him and he can feel his lips whispering, "Forever."

In this half-awake state he's too tired to open his eyes, but he's sure he'll feel Stiles moving away in shock and leaving and he curses his mind.

But Stiles doesn't move away. Instead he wraps his arm tighter around the wolf. Derek can feel the boy smiling into his back as he whispers, "Forever. Okay, I can do that."

Derek finds himself thinking that he might just be able to get used into Stiles' warm arms, just before he falls into his first dreamless sleep in a very long time.

 

 ***

_You loved me 'cause I'm fragile_  
 _When I thought that I was strong_  
 _But you touch me for a little while_  
 _And all my fragile strength is gone_  
  
 _Something always brings me back to you_  
 _It never takes too long_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, please let me know if you find any mistakes;)  
> Also, look me up on tumblr! allyyargents.tumblr.com  
> xxx


End file.
